The Sun. — London, England, 1838-10-01 00:00:00

C ORN LA W FALLACIES, WITH THE ANSWERS. (Continued from The Sun of Wednesday.) 76.—That in consequence of Tithes which fall entirely, and of Poor and Highway -rates wich fail chiefly, on land, the home manufacturer of corn is entitled to a protecting duty according to every principle of justice and political economy. -- Cantabrigiensis. ANSWER. —Meet the proposition in the face and state it thus. There is an island with great mineral and other internal capabilities for manufactures, and consequently for commerce ; but the people are already as many as can live on the corn produced on it, without paying a higher price than it could be bought for from the neigh bouring main-land. An insular philosopher stands up and says, Whoever would improve this island, it is above all things necessary that' he do two things ;—make the land owners piy for the clergy, poor, and highways ; and then make them cut off the foreign commerce of the manufac turers by way of giving themselves compensation." Surely the Chinese political economists, who roasted a pig by set ting a house on fire, were only a type of this. „ 79 .—The arguments which I see chiefly urged aga i nst t h e corn -laws are these: 1 . That our not taking the corn of foreigners prevents their buying our manufactures. lass That the highor price of our food, occasioned by these pre n mvents our competing with Continental manufacturers in fo r pr These tak e T e_ t i_ • ue to be tha two great arguments mainly relied on, to arouse our manufacturing population to oppose the pre system. Thi s reasoning, however, I hold to be fallacious, i a nd that, w ere i t true, the work i ng peop l e h ave li tt l e i nterest g a change of system.—Letter of A WonslxolllAN in The un rf Sept. 24, 1838. A.--The WORKING MAN is a Londoner ; and the men of Manchester Leeds, Sheffield, and Birmingham must be se t t o answer him. Ask at Manchester for instance, what It is th a t would improve the condition of the operatives, l a n n w d they will tell you " Something that would at once e r the price of bread, and cause a roaring demand for Manchester goods." Put to them, then, the following ca3e : ship goes to the Continent, freighted with Manchester " What will you buy—buy ?" says the captain. W hat w il l you sell—sell ?" says the continental mer chant. ''Anythi ng th at I can ge t a cargo f or i n re t urn , sinch wh en carr i ed to an English port, will enable me to at e account s w i t h t h e owners." " Corn," says the Chant,mer is dog cheap here. Sell me your c argo for roubles, the rate waistcoat-pieces are bearing in our market, and ;Y o u lay the m out i n corn you w ill get as muc h as I am n ure must se ll i n England for what will make owners, ma u fac turers, and a ll, j ump i n t h e i r s ki ns f or j o y."—" Aha! ! r, fri end," will reply th e ca pt a i n , " where have you been w i., l g, ail your ti me ? Did you never h ear th a t i n E n gl an d h ave an aristocracy, and they put twenty shillings a quar "er upon corn to ra i se their rents? 1 can 't t a k e , e „ ° ,", - -" Timber th en ."—" Just as bad. Our timber has r the ' ari s t ocracy, ' as we ll as corn."—" 'What's to be done ? we have nothing else of which you would not want 'fore than we can make the waiscoat-pieces for at home." ""--" Take back my waistcoat pieces, and tell my owners to pretend t o se ll and make no more, t i ll they can prevent the istecracy from hindering their skipper hod bringing back the cargo that would pay." It . i s l ikely this would be conclusive at Manchester ; banmight be hard to persuade the working people they head, liitttle i n t erest i n a change of system. Upon the other olFad, i t is probable the objector is right : and that stating the ' 1811 " money price of f oo d as th e reason w hi c h preven t s our other w i t h the continental manufacturers, is the blun uer of putting forward a concomitant for a ca u se . A n d t hi 3 is not saying, that if the price o f f o od was l ower , thi ngs Would be no better. For what improved the state of things, to • wit admitting more corn, would at the same time lower th e Price. And what allows of the increased sale of waist oat-pieces, is not the diminished money price of the la bourers' food, but taking off the tax which hindered a pro fit Ale home cargo from being made in corn. This is not the only instance of blundering on the part of the anti- Corn-law advocates ; another is, when they try to per suade the landlords or farmers, that they must he brought to the grindstone by the increased price of their own and labourers' bread. But it do's not follow, because men ad vance bad arguments, that there are no good. 78.—The truth is, that if the Corn-laws were repealed, w e sh ou l d send less of our manufactures to foreigners than we now do, b ut consume more ourse l ve s. —ld . A.—The truth is, that we shoulto. For if w e d o not consume more our selves, and se n d mo re to foreigners a s end more t o f ore i gners th an w e ci o now, where is the m ore corn to come f rom, and what effect would there be from th e repeal o f t h e Corn-laws at all ? Prices would remain un altered, and all things go on as before. 79 - —What would then be saved in the l esser cost of food, to Quid be ma i nly spent in better clothes and other comforts, --Id.duce which mere of our fellow- men must be set to work. pro man ' — Some of it wou ld ; as stated before. But i f more ,oiae tures were no t at t h e same time sent abroad, the whole plan would come to naught. 80.......8ut if the working classes are to be told that their advantage from a repeal of the Corn-laws is to result from their being then able to sell their manufactures to foreigners abroad, and' to non-producers at borne, at a less price than they now sell them, it is difficult to see the benefit.—ld. A.—The everlastin g puzzle between money prices and substantial ;—was it rightly said to be too much for the working classes and the Tories ? They are to sell their r oanufactures,', so that they shall get an increased quantity of what they want, corn. Wages are to be two shillings in stead of half-a-crown, but they are to have as much bread an d everything else for the two shillings, as the used to bate f or f our. Do they want to take the Tories' y offer in stead ; which is, that they shall bare half-a-crow n instead of two shillings, but the half-crovvn shall only buy them as mach of anything as fifteen-pence did before ? i 81.---If wag es are to be lower, in proportion to the lower .r.'g of the cost of the loaf, as the second argument above no ticed su pposes, wh ere i s t h e good ?—ld. posed A .The second argument, whether bad or good, sup 'o . no lower such thi ng . I t i s very possible for money wages be when corn is lower, but not lower in the same proportion ; and if by such a process the working classes got as much bread as they want, they would not quarrel about the bits of tin. 82 n th,,, 4 * -- c'll ! but it is said there will be more employment, ; at i th mg, but ad" wages. Employment is doubtless . a good A........llowetilsuaadte remuneration foritis t b o et b t be come by, Wit is not by gettin , equate remuneration . _ instead of g the wages that will buy the greater quantity substantial employment, . the less ? There is to be more better workin'Pacillpayment, and smaller money payment. If the Ve.,__ a e g .csses run after the Tories, for offering them t r wages which shall buy less, it is more than the privat e gentlemen oft he Guards would do. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ...m.......... e5.ma................. Blu m , .—We ikre h a ., --4 ON AND DIEPPE RAILROADS. both P e PY to find that the works of these two railroads, in bei ° I which Brighton is most materially interested, are b i ng carried on with great activity. It is said, even, that the e PPe line will be fir - st completed, and that great improve raents -I I ac orn '4l, be made in the harbour of that town for the M e e,o, r4°Q atinn of steam-boats and other vessels. At eropi o ;:in ct , in Surrey, there are a great number of men d the lino from L ando --o Pwarcla of five hundred—an te nde to that place is in such a state of forwardness that to ti i . r . s ,have been made to coach the remainder of the road lirane.:(4l,ll°n• T s e h m oi p e o i rary , trams have been laid along .. rno v I "ne to prized upon which the carts for the re i°Frkthe earth wil a l m shortly run; and we shall not be sur for th - "Y next slimmer this portion of the line is , opened of the er°4,veYance of passengers and goods. The formai t tended '4"rnad through the centre of Sussex must be t a - i n c _ . with the most decided advantages to Brighton ; but, taken sof „"nexion with that of Dieppe,—by which the metropolis hou l. ;.„ n g l e and and that of France will be brought within a es. is ; °I ,eh other _ a prospect so cheering and so extended tir:ir n e neu, that hope ma) , venture to indulge in the most grat r,iiroganticipations. Whilst, however, great attention is_ p e a_id _o_ 13r'glitosn 9" matter at present seems almost oyerlook om d mu i! ai nation is . to become the main link in the chain of c to NY s o - wit h Prance, it will soon be found necessary . .t,en.roe attention to the harbours both of Shoreham and Newd if , Brighton belongs to the port of Shoreham, an o ther ea go into Newhaven from stress of weather or sh e l e _ a u'es, and afterwards come to Brighton or Shoreham, ti on b Ti e s t to Pay double port dues. Now the communica l end ft ween Brighton and Shoreham is much more direct by l • ni lan between Brighton and Newhaven, and great ineon -41 e,nce arisrs to the passengers and all concerned when the h av % b t°r! packet from France is compelled to run into New- With. 1 1, if, therefore, this port be made that for communication he imp:elT, till road between Brighton and Newhaven must app "i'd• The harbour of Newhaven is good, though the roach i dama,F.: , o b_u t no e _ n bad weather is considered to be not without packet could bear the expense of paying the th e n __ i entering that port at night and a further charge do _v,aetureorning of going to Shoreham harbour, as she must 42" she comes up for passengers from Brighton. Shore prZat,, rbour is susceptible of great improvement, and will L .4c its e orn ug . no most in request, as it is at present, when the with France is facilitated by the railroad. % j l ! c. 1 1 .. its with state it would not afford that accommodation 1 ".. 1 ._ larger stearn-Nessels will require. —Brighto n Herald. , i _Alr. It oEßuctes PLATE. —We have seen this ser e, of plate, which hti been expressly manufactured for Mr. 2,,° Mitchell and Co., of this city, at the cost of about iir".l-:„.the amount having been subscribed by the admirers of rtes li is political opinions and conduct. It consists of a soup dish- and ladle, two sauce tureens and ladles, and four corner yerl e h„ 4 ,, ll ,, tl covers, capable of being used as eight. These are l eaves, """owtely ornunented with chased oak branches and a very a d !". A solid oak chest to contain the above is included in T elegant te stimonial.—Bath Herald. . he dockyards in England extend over nearly 500 -cr os. b Chatham eptford dockyard covers 30 acres. Woolwich, 36, P emb , 90, Sheerness 50, Portsmouth 10( 1 , Plymouth 96, and • Nic e 0. THE NATIONAL. LOAN FUND LIFE ASSURANCE COMPANY. (From the Cambridge independent Press.) Few subjects which are familiar to the public mind are so misunderstood as the principles of life assurance. It is one that comes home to "every man's business and bosom" who has a regard for his own future comforts and happiness. Life assurance may, indeed, be said to be yet in its infancy, and like the steam-engine, its greatest efforts are yet to be discovered. The principles of . fhe Society which has given rise to these re marks, arc, in many respects, so totally different from those of other instiptions of a similar nature, that, admitting their soundness, it is impossible to come to but one of two conclu sions—either that the public has hitherto been wilfully plun dered, or, that the most benighted ignorance has hitherto ex isted on hat most interesting topic, the probability of human life. Under the old system of life assurance (and which is still adopted by nearly all the established companies) a man who, after incessant toil and struggle, has managed to keep a policy on foot for the future security of his family, finds himself, through illness, misfortunes, or some other calamitous failure of means, obliged to abandon his policy. The office will give him nothing for it that is at all in the nature of a recompense for his outlay, and he finds (as too many have found) that the whole amount of his heavy payments have beenhliterally thrown away, as regards his own and his family's benefit; and have merely increased the store, by way of a " bonus," to some more fortunate member, who has been able to keep up his payments. It is a well-known fact, that the great profits of the assurance office have hitherto arisen through policies so abandoned. We hear continually of large sums being added to the policies, but few stop to inquire how they have accumulated. The answer is, by the sacrifices and ruin of the less fortunate members. In the " National Loan Fund Assuance" this cruel loss, and gross injustice, can never be sustained. The leading princi ple that distinguishes this Society from any other is, that if a person finds himself unable, or unwilling to keep up big future payments, the office, so far from taking advantage of this cir cumstance, will render him prompt and effectual assistance. First, if his embarrassments are temporary, he may borrow two-thirds of the premium actually paid, and yet his policy will continue good. Secondly, if he really finds it impossible to keep them up any longer, a sum will be assured to him on his decease for what he has already paid, without any further payment. Thirdly, if he is so negligent and improvident as to abandon his policy altogether, (in which case it would be totally lost to his family in the other office,) his representatives may, notwithstanding, claim two-thirds of the premiums paid, on his decease. These are a few of the primary advantages which this So ciety pcssesses over any other existing assurance company that we arc aware of. It thus opens the door to many highly de sersing classes to whom life assurance has been hitherto effec tually closed. But there is another distinguishing feature, which is worthy of very general consideration, for there is scarcely a member of any class of society that is net suscep tible of its great advantages; we allude to that branch of tha business confined to the Deferred Annuities. It is both inte resting and extraordinary to observe the power which these tables show money has of accumulating. The following are the choice of benefits which are to be derived from the invest ment of one shilling per week, when the party contributing has reached the age of 65. To prevent misconception, these calculations are made where the age of the assured is only twenty, where he is more, he would, to secure the same advan tages, at the same cost (i. e. one shilling a week) pay a fur ther sum for the disparity, vide tables.) He may take— An Annuity of 471. 16a. for the remainder of his life. A sum in cash of 3941. I Is. Or a Policy (payable on his death) of 4661. In addition to either of which he has the right of borrowing, in case of sickness, or any other calamity befalling him, two thirdsof th a arnaunt actually contributed by him ; an l,in the event of his dying before he reaches that age, his family may claim the same proportion; so that, under the worst circumstances, he can never lose more than one-third of the amount he has ac tually paid. We have shown what can be done for the insignificant sum of one shilling, because there are few of the poorest of the in dustrious classes who would not be able, witif some very slight sacrifice, to reserve that trifling portion of their wags's. Nearly in all the manufacturing districts, Saint Monday is kept by the workman; in other words, one day in the week is dedicated to idleness or perhaps debauchery. Suppose nothing were spent (although we fear that is most improbable) on that day, the very day's wages, accumulated in this Society, would pro duce the splendid results we have above mentioned. One single day's labour in every week throughout a working man's life, even although it produced him but a shilling, or a few pence snore, might secure to himself, when arrived at sixty five years, an annuity of nearly fifty pounds, or a sum to his family, on his decease, of about five hundred pounds. We have taken a view of this branch of the institution in the most confined point ; but it is to be observed, that the ad vantages are as equally available, and in the same proportion, to the man who could lay by one pound a week, as to him who can only spare one shilling. From the brief sketch we have given of the objects of this Company, it will be seen that they embrace the combined advantages of an ASSURANCE OFFICE, a FRIENDLY SOCIETY, and a SAVINGS' BANK. Besides these leading characteristics, the National Loan Fund has one peculiar to itself. It not only assures a rnan's family in case of his death, but it assures him self in the event of poverty, sickness, or distress. Hitherto money paid to an assurance office must be considered as a dedication exclusively to the future, no provision whatever is made for the exigencies of the present. Thus a prudent and provident man, who has reserved the surplus of his income, by yearly deposits in the assurance office, may have accumulated a large fund for his family to be enjoyed by them, when he cannot participate in it himself, and yet by some misfortune coming suddenly " like a summer cloud," and overshadowing his prospects, he may feel the stings of poverty as sharply as the extravagant, and the improvident. The admirable provi sions of this Society enable a man to assist himself, without in terfering provision made for those dependent on hi m . Nvebe e i t s to e the peculiarity of the benefits of that office lv with the that the following passage (taken from a very able letter by a correspondent in the Times on this subject) refers : " A new plan has lately been brought forward, by one or two of the new societies, in which advantages present are linked with advantages to come; provision for, with security to ourselves; the money paid in premiums is now no longer permitted to slumber in the funds of the Society, but rendered available to those who have placed it there. The plan to which I more particularly allude, is that of considering the premiums as so many successful deposits, instead of sinking them as so many expended premiums. The plan was first in troduced by a strictly mutual society—a society notoriously prudent and cautious in the extreme--and which has had no private interest to serve. It is founded on the purest spirit of philanthrophy, and will relieve many a member from temporary distress, lighten many a future case, and, by the security it imparts, rob the breast of many an anxious moment." —Times, Sept. 18. As some proof of the soundness of the principles of this So ciety, we may observe that some of the oldest-established of. flees have adopted its leading advantages, although not in so extensive a degree. We have only to aid that, independently of large and increasing business in London, branch societies emanating from the parent establishment are formed, or are its the course of formation, in all the principal parts of Eng land, Scotland, and Ireland, one of which, we are happy to inform our readers, is about to be located in Cambridge, un der such auspices as will insure it the encoueagement which its principles deserve. We see, by the prospectus of the So ciety, that the Directors invite all existing Friendly Societies to participate in the benefit of the plan, and which they clearly can de with an advantage equal to private individuals. We shall return to the subject. The late James Kinloch, Esq., of Jermyn-street, after providing very amply for his nearest relatives, with liberal legacies to his friends, has bequeathed to numerous charities as follows: —At Aberdeen : —To the Infirmary, the Poor's Hospital,- the Lunatic Asylum, the Marischal College (to found three bursaries or scholarships), 1,0001. each. Ia Lon- don :—To the Scottish Corporation, the Caledonian Asylum, St. George's Hospital, Charing-cross Hospital, Foundling hospital, Magdalen Hospital, Female Orphan Asylum, London Orphan Asylum, and the Marine Society-3001. each. Madame Albertazzi has entirely - recovered from her indisposition, and opens Drury-lane Theatre this evening in Mozart's opera of Don Juan. DEATH OF MR. BARNES.—Poor Barnes, the Pantaloon, who lately took his benefit at the English Opera House, died on Friday last at his lodgings et Pentonville, in the fiftieth year of his age. The Observer says that previous to his decease he had made a will, bequeathing to variJus per sons the money which his late benefit produced. Two daughters of a planter, natned Wayne, one six and the other eight years of age, were murdered on Monday week by three of their father's slaves. Their throats were cut from car to ear, and the bodies left by the distracted father's gate. This deed of horror was committed at the Warm Springs, Virginia. A. mournful event occurred at Ripley, Indiana, last week. Two brothers were hunting in the woods, when one of them espied, as he supposed, a deer. He told his brother to fire. The brother did so, and on repairing to the spot they found, instead of a deer, the daughter of one of them in the agonies of death, the ball having plEsed through her head. A SUFFICING REASON.—Colonel Dunlop, of the Huron and St. Clair militia, has published a letter com plaining bitterly of certain commissariat officers, ',hem he charges with arrogance and neglect of duty ; but he exone rates them from all disrespect to himself personally—beca use as he says, he is " six feet high, an proportionably-broad across the shoulders." SOUTH WESTERN RAILWAY.—TiIe Southern Repol ter informs us that a requisition for a public meeting is in progress—the object of which is to take into consideration the best means of carrying out the recommendation of the Railway Commissioners as to this grand design. We are in formed that the signatures of all the leading bankers, merchants, traders, and professional men of the city, bad been at once obtained. A HINT.—It should be generally made known to all drivers of vehicles o n the public roads', as well as to the public at large, that from the 7th of October next, under a new Act of Parliament, it will be in the power of the Magis trates, upon conviction of careless or furious driving, to com mit offending parties to the treadmill, instead of letting them off with a fine, as under the old law. On Monday last a man fell from the rigging of a ship into the Waterloo Dock. carrying with him a block weighing 32 lb., between which and the deck his leg was crushed, the bones protruding through the skit - I.—Liverpool Standard. POST-OFFICE ARRANGEMENTS. In consequence of the recent opening throughout of the London and Birmingham Railway, the following arrange ments for the dispatch and delivery of letters were yesterday announced at our Post-office :—On and after Tuesday Lext, the 2d October, the delivery of the. London letters here will take place about nine o'clock in the morning, instead of half past eleven or a quarter to twelve (noon) as at present. On Monday next, October 1, the principal bag for London, taking bags for Birmingham, Bristol, Exeter, and Falmouth, vi ill be dispatched at half-palt five in the evening ; the box closing at fir". A London bag, with the foreiyn bag on Tuesdays and Fridays, will be dispatched every night, or rather morn ing, at half-past two o'clock, for which the box will close at ten o'clock at nigl_t. The letters for London by this bag will be delivered in town about twelve o'clock, noon. Bags will also be dispatched, on and after Monday next, October 1, far Edinburgh, Glasgow, and the North, at a quarter before seven o'clock in the morning ; the box closing at six o'clock, a. m . —Manchester Guardian. Some important alterations will be made in the arrival and departure of the London mails to and from this city, a f ter Tuesday next, consequent on the opening of the London and Birmingham Railway. We will have the advantag e o f an evening delivery of letters and papers at the window of the Post-office, about a quarter•past nine--the mail arriving here a little after eight o'clock. The following arc the times fixed upon : POST-OFFICE, CARLISLE, SEPT. 28, 1838. A lIRIVAL. Due by tia le _ pi ece , MAILS. n. M . London (by Warrington) New Gla , go 8 9 P. wt. w Edinburgh Old London Manchester and Liverpool Newcastle 8 10 P. M. Glasgow Edinburgh Port Patrick Wigton Ride DISPATCHED. Due by time-piece, MAILS. it. . Al. New Glasgow Edinburgh London (by Warrington) .Old Glasgow Edinburgh . . 5 20 A. i.r. . Portpatrick Newcastle Wigton Ride Manchester and Liverpool 5 OP. m. Old London (by Borouulibridge) . - These are calculated by London time, being 12m. before Carlisle clocks. The London bag will be sent by the Mail at sb. Om. A. M. In addition to this there will be a direct mail to Whitehaven, passing through Wigton, Allonby, Maryport, and Workington. This arrangement is important, and Las long been much wanted. The gig will leave Carlisle a: half-past five in the morning, and arrive in Whitehaven at ten : to be dispatched again at three in the afternoon, and reach Carlisle at half-past seven in the evening. —Carlisle Journal. MARKET HARBOROUGH. SEPT. 29.—At half-past two o'clock this morning the inha bitants of HarbHough were alarmed by the fire-bell, and a dreadful cry of " Fire at the Factory !" It was soon disco vered that a fire had broken out in the centre of the extensive buildings of the Messrs. Clarkes, carpet and worsted-manu facturers. For half an k.our the scene was extremely awful, and there appeared every prospect of the entire destruction of the buildings, machinery, and many houses contiguous. The inflammable nature of many of the materials on the premises, the almost ins-parable connection of the whole range of build ings, and the densely populated neighbourhood, were circum stances which filled the mind of every beholder with horror. Happily in a few minutes the town engines were on the spot, and a plentiful supply of water being afforded, the raging element in a short time began to abate its fury. Hope and fear appeared to possess every breast, and their mingled effsets were seen in the countenances and conduct of the assembled multitude. S ;me little confution took place in the manage ment of the proceedings, in consequence of the number of ad visers and the mass of persons assembled; but an almost un remitting play of the eng ines was kept up, and four o'clock the flames were got under, and before day-light eff..ctually subdued. The fire originated in the boiler-house, to which its ra vages were chiefly confined. The upper rooms, used for dry ing worsted, were completely destroyed, with their contents, consisting of a quantity of worsted, &c. No blame is attached to any individual, and there appears no doubt the fire was purely accidental. The watchman - had but a few minutes before left the part of the buildings where the catastrophe took . place. An extra watchman had also been engaged for the night, in consequence of a suspicion of robbery. The damage is very inconsiderable in comparison of what was antic'pated—it is estimated at 3001. Ile whole premises are insured in the York, London, and Foreign Insurance Office. Thug were several circumstances contributed to mo derate the ravages of the fire. The old mill immediately connected with the boiler-house had a short time ago been taken down, and a new building erected on its site, part of which is still unfinished. The night also was exceedingly still—the flames and sparks appeared to ascend perpendicu. larly. The .engines were in good repair, a plentiful supply of water, and an abundance of men, who appeared all interested in the preservation of the property. We are gratified to find that the proprietors of the establishment will not in this in. stance be great sufferers. Every well-wisher to the town must wish well to Messrs. Clarkes, who employ some 300 or 400 hands in the t-,swn, besides 200 or 300 in the surrounding country ; and who have been at an enormous expense in ex. tending their business during the past three or four years. OLYMPIC THEATRE. This highly-popular theatre opened for the season on Sa turday night, wanting none of its former attractions, save the presence of its fair lessee, whose loss bas been repaired in the best possible manner by the engagement of so admirable a sub stitute as Mrs. Nisbett. The managerial department has been provided for in the appointment of Mr. Planche, which will go far to sustain the reputation which this theatre has acquired for its superiority and correctness in costume, scenery, and general stage effects. This was manifested on the present occasion, in the exceedingly natural and complete arrange meat of the opening scene of Mr. Charles Danse's new and successful drama of Sons and Systems, of the plot of which the following is a brief outline :—" Mr. Lemon Sowerby (W. Farren), an old gentleman, with as much acid in his temper as his name implies, and his sister, Mrs. Sweetman ( Mrs. Orger), whose temper also corresponds with her patronyme, residing together in the country, have each a so n , Messrs. T. Green and Selby, in who:e educati on t h ey have both pursued a " system" suited to their dif ferent dispositions—the one all strictness and seve rity, the other all tenderness and unbounded indul gence ; both have full confidence in the merits of their favourite " systems," which are the subject of continual dis putes; neither, however, have succeeded in insuring the duti ful obedience expected from them', as we find at the com mencement the young gentlemen engaged in plan n i ng an elopement with their fair neighbours, Laura Harcourt (Mrs. Nisbett,) and her sister Blanch (Miss Murray,) which they carry into execution with the assistance of Roots, the gar dener (Oxberry,) 'and his, assistant Donald O'McSweeney ( Brougham,) who are the bearers of letters, which deceive their parents into a belief that each is accompanying the other in the hope to dissuade him from his design. Unwilling to give pain by the disclosure, the old folks secrete their letters, each privately exulting in the fancied success of their " sys tems.' Meanwhile the runaways, having nearly exhausted their finances, are desirous of a reconciliation, is Ilia Laura undertakes to effect. She desires them to write letters to their respective parents, each announcing the marriage of his cousin with them, and disguised in male attire, she gains an interview with Mr. Sowerby, and completely wins his good graces by flattering him on the mildness and amiability of his temper, ain to il:s break nephew'sthe m p ce r s r e i a n g t s e htios his s o n s ' i s s t t le r t , t er, and and end epa;v pardon. In a subsequent interview with Mrs. Swectm an she him Ciu -a r il s s te on ob delivers the other letter with a similar request ; an eclaiicisse meat of course ensues, end produces unexpected results, the hitherto placid temper of the lady breaks into violent indig-, nation at the disobedience of her over-indulged son, whilst her irrascible brother is convinced of the fell; of severity, which, by destroying confidence, has induced deception, and_ in becoming sensible of the errors of his . system er n ot only readily pardons the effect of which it has been the cause, but intercedes with his sister for the forgiveness of his ne p he w , and thus all parties become reconciled. The b urden of the piece devolved principally upon Mr. Farren and Mrs. Orger, who sustained it with their usual ability. Mrs. Nisbetttrn parted much sprightliness to the part of Laura, and Miss_ .)e Murray represented her sister Blanche very agreeably. The divided applause. drama was well received, and given out for repe t i tio n with um- THE FIRE IN WYCH-STYLEET.—It has been as certained that no less a number then six families have been ren dered homeless by this fire. The foliewing arc their names — Mr. C o ll ar d, s t oc k, b u ildi ng , a nd furniture destroyed; stock only insured. Mrs. Cutmore, first-floor lodger, every article of vvearinocr apparel, &c. consumed; not insured. Mr. Layton, wife, a n d d aug h ter , not t h e l east port i on o f property saved; not insur e d. M rs . Li ntott , w id ow , save d by the County and Chandos. st reet men an d eng i nes ; a ll d es t ro yed, and not in sured. Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, nothing cared nor insured. For some hours after the fire was subdued the attic lodgers, it was feared, had perished in the flames, not having been seen among the muster of unfortunate persons burnt cut in St. t s Clement's tap. room, the landlord o f w hich gave them shelte r and ref res h ment ; b ut about five o'clock they were di scov ered in he tstreet, house et , of er a e relative houses o f M r . El phick end Mr. Stevens, on the oppos i te s ide of the e also considerablyme distance d anm F. WANDERING damaged. od. from the TII i : ~ D - IPER.,— i. rr iliSSUCCes success ful hoaxer visited Ayr on dV . $ d the good e nes sy last, and attempted to lay folks under contribution ; but he found it was no do—bis real character was smoked —and on Friday he b u n dled up hi s neat little squeaking Irishbagpipe, and left Avr for Irvine, declaring this one •of the shabbiest towns •in th'e -mg om.— . 1,• d Glasgow Chronicle. LINIMENT FOR THE GALLED BACKS OF Flonses.—Nothing succeeds so well as white lead moistened with milk. Whenever the application is made in the early stage of tLe wound, it is always eff:ctual. THE MAGAZINES. BLACKWOOMS MAGAZINE. There is a curious diatribe in this Number, entitled " The Progress of Popery," which, from its hysterical character seems to have been penned while the writer was labouring. under a fit of . the horrors. Every sentence is an alarm hell, which he rings in the ears of the orthodox with, what Falstaff would call, " damnable iteration." The English Papists, he assures us, are not less than two mil lions in number ; their chapels are daily increasing in pro portion ; they arc wealthy and persevering ; arc constantly turning a longing eye towards the Protestant Establish ments ; and will stick at nothing to resume their old ascen dancy ! Such are the startling assertions which the writer repeats a dozen times in the course of as many pages, ad ding, for the special edification and satisfaction of all good Protestants, that the time is at hand when we shall all of us be made Papists in spite of ourselves ; and that even our remotest colonies will not escape the visitation, for " Sir Maurice Q'Connell; whose very name speaks volumes, has just been appointed Governor of New South Wales!" Really this horror of Popery is very ridiculous ; and though it may be shared in by certain superannuated Tories who wear powder and pig-tails,and believe in their conscience that O'Connell is Antichrist, the refl:•cting portion of the community will treat it with contempt and ridicule. " The Cabinet and the Country," is of course a vehement assault and battery on the present Administration, who, in the writer's opinion, are going headlong to the Devil, and taking the country alon; with them, by way of company. " The Picture Gallery," which we perceive has reached its fifth number, contains a tale founded on an affecting anecdote related by Dr. Uwins, in his treatise on " Disorders of the Brain." "On the Earlier English Moral Songs and Poems," is an ingenious essay on some of the writings of Wyatt, Spencer., Surrey, and Raleigh, from which several felicitous passages are extracted. " Funerals" is written in a spirit of great feeling and simplicity. We quote the cursory reflections on town and country church-yards, the truth of which no one can gainsay : " A London churchyard is at any time, crowded as it is, a most forlorn place, so utterly abandoned by the living, and as much as may be shut out from sight, as if we were ashamed of them, and compensated by a long neglect for the undertaker's one expensive parade. And who does not, while in life, en courage the idea of resting in the grave ? but in these recep taelcs there can be, fancy assures us, no rest, night nor day. The incessant noise of carriages that pass them in their speed of pleasure or business; the full tide and roar of life, that never stops to remember one inhabitant of all the tombs, thst ring with the chariot wheels of universal neglect, rattling on to the feast or show—and the dampness and the fog that settles on, or broods over them in the twilight of a November day, awl the chill and rains of wintry nights, so sadly contrasted with the low debasing riot of life, and wickedness of lanes around them, all those seam to rob death of its repose, and even of its respect, and the grave-tenants of their respectabi lity. No, Eusebius, lam weak enough to abhor such sepul ture. If I must contemplate the outward scene of my last borne —and how few are that do not ?—let it be where the grass grows not rank and black, amid the broken pots and pans, and refuse cast from decaying windows—but where the grass grows on which the sun shines, and a flower may spring up from the fresh earth, returning modest thanks as an offering, even from the dead, for the blessing of showers and dews of heaven—% here, if there be pride, it shows not its offensive ar. regent airs, but the aristocratic and humble monuments bear a family relation to each other, claiming clanship in death ; where the daily frequented path yet keeps friendly fellowship with the living, and where graves are not unvisited ; where graves look sensible of a Sabbath, and Sabbath care and vil lagers' talk—where the Sunday congregation, not hastening out with all speed, as from an odious place, love to linger e and there is homely courtesy, and better than everyday thought!, put on with Sunday clothes. Where a friend, such as my Eusebius, may freely , come and cheat his fancy, and give breathing to his affection, without having to seek sexton or beadle for key, and a permission to be paid for. Not too gay for sorrow, nor too sad for love ; but where there may be an indwelling sanctity that may hallo* both ; whence sorrow might receive comfort and love trust;- where there is a sweet green shade for the tales of the young, and a lingering sun shine upon ,many a sod .to rest the aged as they sit, not un thankful that beneath their feet is the same home that will re ceive them, as it has received their kindred before them. Such is a scene of peace. Here the living may hope to " sleep with their fathers." I love even the country churchyard epi taphs, their repetitions, their quaint rhymes, and mis-spellings. One can fancy the' on moonlight nights, when the shadow s connect grave with grave, and stone with stone by their dis tinct lines, that gentle spirits come out of them, and, linked together in groups, seek amusement." " The Tutor" is a short tale full of broad, racy humour, •which would make a capital farce. The character of Ignatius Hubble is hit off with much spirit, though rather caricatured, and reminds us of Congreve's Old Foresight, in that most irresistible of all comedies, Lore for Love.. " The Letter from Tomkins" contains some amusing and pointed passages, but as a whole it is too wire-drawn. " A Glance over the Poetry of Thomas Wharton" is from the pen of Christopher North, who does justice to the memory of a man of genius and a scholar. Of late years Wharton seems to have fallen into oblivion, yet he is the author of one of the finest sonnets in the language—that, we mean, on " Revisiting the Bank; of the Loddon," which we are surprised that Christopher has not quoted, as it is far superior to his more ambitious attempts in verse. By the bye, why does Kit go out of his way to sneer at Cibber ? Poor Colley was by no means the scamp that he is gene rally supposed to have been ; he was thoughtless and irn but nothing worse ; and as for ability, his provident, gl Apology" and his comedies prove that Pope wilfully underrated him when he made him the hero of the " Dunciad." NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Mr. Hook's " Gurney Papers" halt a little this month ; there is too much narrative, and too little of that lively dramatic dialogua in which the author so highly excels. Still they are worth perusal ; for one or two of the incid en t s , trifling in them selves, are worked up with considerable tact and s pirit. In " Algiers in the Spring of 1837" we find some piquant sketches of the present state of that singular French colony , Amon g other signs of the times, Mayer b er'S opera of liokert the Devi has, it seems, been hissed wShaiettilinipoenrh.alpuss may account from his trip to per formed there. It did not,. however, suit the taste of an Algerine audience, who hissed with as cw ' o m uh u iol c t h fino e ru n st e ht r e g h y dali a s,e s . devils s he theatre . where it was represented was for merly r Et e h ' l ei e s d. orwtohsequeeto'hpepeDr:volioiunrtehdelaruedhieunrceaehe,es. elegant n g t rF great little ss profaneness nfro i nt n the the pe n French of s e : " Castles in Twiss. Graceful, however, as is this lady's prose, we pre fer her poetry, as a favourable specimen of which we quote some lines which strike us as truly affecting and unaffected thought in their character : it p a l n :yn ac e t To tsiulomiAngietois 'There best to part, since now too well I know The change I m ay not, cannot learn to bea r , Yet shall no frantic rhapsody of woe Proclaim the transports of uncbeek'd despair. Think with what pangs of varying hope and dread My sorrowing soul has seen thy love decline, Till passion's earner energies are fled, And heartless vows are all I now resign. Think with what aching patience I have d we l t On every dear memorial of the past ; Think on the lone l y anguish have felt, I And do not Wonder though sink at last. Still It't me fondly hope that, when thine eye Shill cease to view the form once loved so well, These lines may wake a momentary sigh While thus they speak what I must never tell ; For I will never more in silence gaze On the faint semblance of thy former smile, - Hang on each word that speaks of happier days, And, spite of reason, hope a little while. I go where thou must. never hear again Of her who, vainly labouring to forget -Her past felicity—her present pain, • Will never censure what she must regret. Perhaps, when Fancy pictures to thy mind The faded image of thine early love, Tranquilly sad, and mournfully resign'd, With wasted frame and wishes fix'd above. So.-,e faint Nmembrance of the brighter hues 01 hope an d yout h may touc h thy heart once more, Pity may grant what Passion would refuse, And Memory paint me fairer than before. Ah I unlameeted let me not depart— Give me one sigh like those that once were mine, Breath one farewell in mercy to a heart Where thou vast worshipp'd—till thou brok'st the shrine I " The story of Mary Ancel" is of the average order of Magazine fictions. " Personal Narrative of Tristram Dumps" should have been more lively. The best portions of it are the reflections on a French gambling-house. " The Rocking horse" is a short poem by Douglas Jer rold. It points a moral in a very pointed style. In the " Manager's Note Book" we have a somewhat over-copious biography of MaCeMe Mara, the celebrated Italian voca list, who many years ago was the delight and - wonder of our grandfathers and grandmothers. Altogether, the Num ber is of the usual calibre. MONTHLY CHRONICLE. As we noticed at some length the observations on the " People's Charter" in The Sun on Saturday, we need here say no more of it than that it is a carefully considered article, put forth at a most seasonable juncture, and likely to benefit the parties to whose good sense it is addressed. " Our 13anking Institutions" is a useful, practical paper, which commercial men will be sure to read with interest. " Portraits of Remarkable Frenchmen" furnishes us with a sketch of M. Dupin, the celebrated advocate, and now President of the Chamber of Deputies, which appears to be drawn from the life : " Monsieur Dupin (says his biographer) does not appear to be ambitious, nor can he be truly said to be without ambi. tion. Ho is simple in his own habits, and ostent4iou§ in those of his household. He is sometimes very resolute, some times the reverse. tie has been known to pursue fortune with the most determined ardour while she flies, and t' refuse to profit by his success when she yields. He has the humour of a spoilt child ; struggles for the bauble, plays with it awhile, and then casts it aside. Twenty times he has been upon the point of seizing the portfolio of office ; twenty times it has fallen within his grasp, and he has refused to touch it. M. Dupin is unquestionably at the head of an important party in the State, if that can be called a party which possesses no ab solute bond of union, and no confidence in the erratic move ments of its chief. Like the warriors of old, M. Dupin re tires to his tent to arrange the plan of battle and marshal his invisible squalrons : the plan is admirable in all its details ; his chiefs are chosen, and he counsels them to die in the breach sooner than surrender. He makes a furious onslaught upon the enemy himself, and then as suddenly turns round, at the first deviation from the original plan cf attack, to spend his accumulated fury upon his own astonished friends. " Although M. Dupin's peers are held in due respect by each successive Government, still each in succession shrinks from seeking his support. It is said among the different co teries to be difficult to secure hint for a friend, dangerous to have him for an enemy. his considered that he would prove " intractable" iu the Cabinet—that he would occasion as much embarrassment to the Government with which lie is con nected, hsi did to the Government he opposed. He is not sufficientonciliating, supple, and insinuating, to master or evade the thousand and one difficulties which cross the path of the man in office, and is too apt to cut the knot which he has not the patience to untie. As a Minister, he would probably of some of the most strenuous supporters of his party, if their demands savoured in any degree of extravagance, or if they chanced to be made in a moment of ill-humour. In Council he would be apt to make his colleagues the butt of pleasantries which he seems not to know how to repress, or, in the event of opposition to his views, the objects of a sar casm equally intolerable. At Court he is rather tolerated and feared than beloved ; for his manners there, as elsewhere, are brusque, and his language uncompromising. He is known to have offended the susceptibilities of the august head of the Monarchy of July more than once by his fearless advocacy of particular opinions. But if rumour speaks true, be is per mitted to gallop at full speed over the course; as it is known that he will return, if not opposed, with subdued enthusiasm, to the point from whence he started. " Such are M. Dupin's faults of temper, but they are all forgotten or effaced amid the - splendour of his eloquence, which rises, like the sun, to dazzle and confound the eyes which have been occupied in examining the spots upon its surface. But even his eloquence partakes of the peculiar cha racteristics of the man. Is is not so elaborate in method, so correct in style, or so pure in diction as the eloquence of M. de Berrycr ; but it is more substantial, more life-like, more animated, and more picturesque. His comparisons are all drawn from ordinary things—from the habits, customs, and Manners of every-day life ; and these again are illustrated by quaint and homespun truths, which have passed into pro verbs." " More Virtues of Brevity," is a lively little essay, full of shrewd and good-humoured observations. Though meant evidently as a mere joke, there is much truth in this remark—" Stern morality has always chosen a brief medium of communication, but wicked meanings love to wrap themselves in long periods. HoneF.ty is a fellow of few words, but a rogue is full of parentheses." In the " Review of Literature," which occupies a prominent place in this Number, there are some clever and impaptial critical notices of" Lord Lindsay's Letters on Egypt,"and " Mr. Itaikes's Visit to St. Peteriburgb," both of - which have already been reviewed in The Sun. " Notes of the Month" are s r 3rightly and amusing, and give a whimsical account of the grievances of a great—that is to say, of a tall —man, who whenever it rains, gets his hat wet a quarter of an hour before the rain reaches any one else. TAIT'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE. Mr. Banim has contributed a short tale of surpassing power to the October Number of our Northern Monthly Radical ContemPorary - , entitled " The Defender." The scene is laid in Ireland, in 1797, and one of the actors in it is General Abercromby—a name never uttered by the Irish peasantry without the addition of some epithet of which the greatest hero might justly feel proud. The tale overflon,s with the deepest pathos, and exhibits filial piety—a virtue of which the humbler classes in Ireland are more observant than perhaps any other race in the World—in a high and holy light. Mr. Banim is always successful when he devotes his energies to that, to him, most congenial of tasks—the portraiture of the Irish heart. The " House of Lords in 1841" is a good idea, but we cannot applaud . the manner in which it is executed. It would have been more accordant with our ideas of proba bility, it; instead of two years, some fifty or sixty were sup posed to intervene before the publication of a successful debate in that House in favour of Universal Suffrage. Besides, there would be ample materials for the fancy and the imagination to work upon in a debate conducted by; an assembly of as yet unborn Legislators ; whereas, in the article before us, we have merely clever imitations of the diction of Inm with whose speeches we are all quite fa miliar. " Wild sports of the Far West," is a vivid descrip-• Lion of bear and buffalo hunting in the remote wilds of Upper Canada, interspersed with some lively characteristic anecdotes of the hair-breadth escapes of the hunters. We select one of a buffalo hunt " On the way I received many instructions as to how I must conduct myself during the hunt, I being quite a novice so far as reg ,, rded buffalo hnnting. Air. .C— related many anecdotes of the escapes he and his fellow-hunters had had from enraged or wounded bison bulls. Oa one occasion he and three companions went out for a hunt. It was early in July—the season when the bulls arc in hez.t, and consequently very furious. They rode boldly among the herd, and, selecting a fat cow, with a calf by her side, all fired together, and brought her down. " The herd," said he, " had not seemed to take much notice of our party ; but, as soon as we fired, they floundered off in all directions. We dismounted, and, having hoppled the calf, which affectionately remained to wit ness its mother's decease, we proceeded to bleed and dissect the cow. While thus engaged, I observed a buffalo disengaged from the herd approaching us. On calling my companion's attention to the circumstance, one of them insisted on going to meet, and have a shot at it. We expostulated with him, pointed out the danger of attacking, single-handed, an animal, which, from its manner of approach, seemed to have no ami cable intentions; hut he would have his way, and we con tented ourselves with re-loading our ritics, and preparing to follow him. We were on the side of a small elevation, and therefore could only see one side of the prairie, and it was cn the other side that our friend and the buffalo were. While mounting our horses we heard a shot, and immediately after a loud cheer. We proceeded up the slope at a canter, but had not gone a dozen yards, when we heard the peculiar thunder ing noise whiee heavy feet make upon the prairie. Just as we reached the to;), a fearful sight presented itself--our friend the hunter galloped furiously past, about an hundred yards dis tant from us. We could hear the loud panting of the horse, and see the flakes of foam dropping from its mouth, as with convulsive energy it bounded along. About twenty yards be hind him was the buffalo, apparently an enormous bull, bel lowing with rage, and tearing up the ground with his horns, as he madly rushed on after our poor friend, lately the hunter, but now the hunted. Not a moment was to be lost : we gal loped on, keeping at a wary distance col one side, and ready to fire the moment we got within shot. . One of the hunters, a half brother to our apparently devoted comrade Pierre, kept up within two hundred yards of the buffalo; the other hunter and I, finding the distance increasing rather than otherwise, began to despair of getting up in time for a rescue, when sud denly Pierre changed his course, and made off nearly at right angles for his former direction, thus getting the start of the huffJo, and giving us the opportunity to ride across to meet him. We spurred on our horses, and in a few minutes were considerably in advance of Pierre and his pursuer; we each took our station at a few yards' distance on either side of the course, and raised our rifles ready to 11:.e. In another moment. Pierre dashed by between us. We both fired at the maddened animal behind him. Whether wounded by my ball or not Ido not know, but in an instant it rushed on me. My eyes began to da ken, I felt a severe pain, and then became unconscious of what passed, until I was recovered by the usual remedies of brandy and cold water, and then found that my left arm' and three ribs were broken. I had been lifted off my horse on the bison's horns, and pitched up in the air. My poor horse was gored terribly—it died on our return. Pierre's breather, on coming up, tired at the monster, on which it left us and trotted off to the herd, probably mortally wounded; but we were in no condition to pursue it. Pierre never stopped his furious career till within the shades of the forest. When his half brotheriiof speech. tot him up, he found that extreme t error h a d d epr i ve d hint He, however, recovered his speech before night, and informed us of the circumstances. He had fired at the animal ; it tottered and fell, which was the occasion of the cheer we heard ; he then trotted up to it, reloading as he went on, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the buffelo was on his legs, Pierre threw down his rifle, and the chase began. I, concluded Mr. C---, was assisted home, and was confined to bed for several weeks after; however, Pierre and I have shot many buffulocs since then." In the first article, entitled " Peeps P..litical from the Loop-holes of Retreat," Government is attacked with a bit terness of feeling unusual in the sober columns of our Radi cal friend Tait. To Mr. O'Connell and Lords Melbourne and John Russell, no quarter is given. Tait is for upset ting the whole Cabinet at once ; and from the tone of some of his remarks, it is plain that he would prefer a Tory to a Melbourne Administration. With all their energy and their bowed knowledge, the Ultra-Radical leaders sadly lack that most useful of every day qualities—common sense. In this respect, Tait is no better off than Vincent or Fear gus O'Connor, while he exhibits towards public men all the wayward caprice of a young beauty towards a crowd of anxious admirers. His first love was Lord Brougham, whom he proclaimed his admiration of, by constituting him, in effigy, the presiding genius of his magazine. The Noble and Learned Lord was not long a favourite, and was suc ceeded by the Earl of Durham. Next came Mr. O'Connell, who in his turn was obliged to make way for Sharman Crawford, and, as a sort of wind-up, Lord Brougham is once more taken into favour. Where is the consistency here ? And yet, the Ultra-Radicals cannot pardon the slightest symptoms of inconsistency in others. Theree; c lever and o f Cl ar k son ' s S tr i ctures on the " Lif e o f Wiber rorc, r and Lord Lindsay's " Travels in the East,"are _ poor and judicious. The incidental sketch of .the T s e vh o o f fell a Robe:t Ni co ll, l ate Edi tor o f t h e Leeds 7 martyr to his zeal for liberty, oni b 9 died in the former of these articles, is very affectingly introduced. We shall conclude our notice of this Number, by an extract from it— merely premising that it follows an Ode to Clarkson, written by Robert Nicoll, under the impression that he was casting a flower on the grave Of the virtuous dead : " Robert Nicoll wrote under the common idea that Clark son, wha had been labouring for Abolition fifty years before, had finished his course. But the kindred-hearted, youthful poet was to drop at his own honourable post, before the patri arch of Negro Freedom closed his career. When a herd-boy, some few years ago, on the braes of Lowland Perthshire, the self-educated Nicoll had probably first heard or read of Clark son ; nor could this have been without a responsive chord being struck in his fervid bosom. At a very early age for such a task, he became the Editor of the Leeds Times, and at once acquired an influence among the manufacturers and handi craftsmen of the West Riding, which, to those unacquainted with the sympathetic influence of mind over con;;enial minds, must have appeared unaccountable. We have sometimes wished that the valuable lesson, both for encouragement arid warning, which might . be drawn from Robert Nicoll's brief history, were given to the young men of his class—now a numerous and most important cne. His genius, of which ELenezer Elliott, the head of that noble class, has said, " Burns, at his age, had done 'nothing like him," was, all cir cumstances considered, less remarkable than the purity of his life, and the fortitude and energy of his character. He was prized for the purity and singleness, and the ardour of his mind—for the bright promise of that dawn too soon overcast, and for enthusiastic devotion to what he considered the good and the true. Robert Nicoll emerged in life in almost the same circumstances of self-privation and rigorous self-denial with Garrison of Boston, and with the same apostolic zeal for freedom and missionary devotion attributed to that remarkable person, but with more splendour of poetic genius. From un acquaintance with the world, or with the habits of society, and ignorance, and perhaps unwise contempt of its conventionali ties, he was, as a journalist, occasionally chargeable with the same faults as Garrison—intemperance of language, and what are usually called personalities ; nor is it easy for those tiho would denounce abuse and iniquity, and rouse masses of men to the assertion of their rights, to be always bird-mouthed or choice in their expressions. But all his verse is remarkable for tenderness and sweetness; and for simplicity, without rus ticity ; showing nothing of that staunch uncompromising Da mocrat, who, reared in and among "the huts where poor men lie," gave all his love, all his sympathy, and probably all his esteem, to the virtuous poor. . " For two or three years before his death, which took place at the age of twenty.three ' Nicoll's physical strength bad been literally consumi ng i n th e fires of his sleepless mind. He had contrived to subsist upon the pittance of about 2s. 6d. a week ; burning with the thirst of knowledge, and giving day and night to study and composition. When he went to Leeds as a journalist, aware of the deficiency of his education, or of his non-education, his anxiety " to do his best," as he termed it, and a high and sustaining consciousness of his real powers, made him doubly task himself. The consequence was the rapid popularity of the newspaper, whose Editor was known only by the fervour of his writings, and by that resist less sympathy with the feelings and scants of the p eo pl e , which obtained him th e i r confidence and admiration. He struggled on, until he literally dropped at his post ; though his last breath was drawn in that native land which he loved so dearly, and to which so much of his sweetest verse is dedicated. .‘ We rejoice that this desultory reference to Robert Nicoll gives us a fit opportunity of mentioning a circumstance which ought to be known to all the world, and especially to the Radicals of Leeds and the West Riding. When his days were evidently (hawing to a close, Mr. Tait wrote Sir Wil liam Molcsworth to the effect that young Nicoll of the Leeds Times bad been induced to leave his post, in the last stage of a decline, aggravated by the prospect of destitution, rendered much more bitter by the distress of those who locked to him for daily bread. But his wants were few—his time, in" all probability, to be short in this world—and little would suffice. Sir William, without an hour's delay, transmitted an order for fifty pounds, and a most kind and delicate letter. It would be a sin to conceal this unostentatious deed of benevolence in their Member to their late Editor, from the Radicals of Leeds." FRAZER'S MAGAZINE. The first article in this Number is the best, and few better have appeared in the Magazine. The subject is " Genius and the Public," and It is treated throughout in a manly and common-sense style. The writer scouts the popular sentimental notion that nine out of ten•men of genius are left to starve by an ungrateful public, asserting, on the contrary, that they arc assessed at their proper worth, and rewarded accordingly. It was not so some eighty or ninety - years since, when Johnson signed one of his Ramblers " Impransus," and Javage walked about the streets all night, because he bad not where to lay his head ; but certainly in the present days, genius has little or no cause to complain, for, if duly seconded by perse verance, it is as sure to succeed as the east winds to blow in March. The public not only encourages, but actually courts it in all its var:ous phases ; nor is the case of the late Co!eridge an exception, for if a man, instead of vi g orously a workin out the fine poetic faculty with which God has endowed him, chooses to plunge head over ears into the dull, heavy slough of transcendentalism, bewil dering his readers as well as himself, bow can be expect to become popular? " A Day among the Mountains" is, as its title imports, almost Wholly descriptive. We will give the reader a taste of its quality : " A day among the mountains—far in the hills—is a pass age in a man's life more touching and memorable than a day in the woods. In the latter we scarcely ever lose sight .of the cheerful haunts of men, or their occupations. Our sensations are unmixed with terror. The animals and objects around us excite the genial sympathies and impulses of our frame; our emotions are not forced into one channel, or overpowered by one master feeling or passion. Alone among the mountains, we are reduced to utter insignificance ; our sympathies aro choked; the soul is thrown back on itreif. The scene is strong with the original, primeval impress• of nature, un touched by man or his works. We wet to stand directly in the presence of the Almighty, stripped of all flatteries and disguises ; the bold outlines and peaks of the hills, cleaving the silent, motionless air, appezr as Ilis handwriting, le gible in their m , jestic character, and appalling in their stern ness and solitude. Such as we now see them they were be held by the world's grey fathers,' bond and free, in the ear- Lest periods of creation. The eagle still builds his nest among the cliffs; the torrent still flashes down the ravine; the birch, tree, or the pine, waves over the precipice; and the lake, vi sited by the red deer and the solitary water-fowl, still beats its hanks, reflecting the grey rock and the cloud, all utterly careless and unconscious of man, who seems an alien, an incumbrance to the scene. The conquerors of the world subdued nations ; but the mountains, like the banner of heaven, were impregnable. Woods are perishable and evanescent ; they flourish and fade; Fall successive, and successive rise ;' are cut. down or reproduced in their deciduous beauty and leafy splendour ; the mountains remain unchanged amidst the mutations of time." " Foreign Policy of the Whig Cabinets of 1807 and of 1838" is an attempt to establish an analogy where not the slightest analogy exists. The article is vigorous in point of manner, but full of false assumptions, and inferences drawn from untenable premises. " The Constable of Bourbon" is an interesting, well-digested historiette, simi lar to some that have lately appeared in Blackwood. The details of the memorable sack of Rome and the death of Bourbon are given in a vigorous and graphic spirit. " Our Club at Paris" is an amusing bit of gossip. " Little Men and Little Measures" attacks Lord Brougham, both as an author and a politician, comparing him, in this last capa city, to Jack Wilkes, whom he resembles about as closely as O'Connell resembles Jack Cade. The article is re markable for nothing but its flagrant injustice and absurd vehemence. " Homeric Ballads" are cleverly rendered by Dr. naginn, and the " Loose Thoughts" suggest some hints worth consideration on the subject of the Birmin;ham Railway. ALEXANDER'S EAST INDIA 4ND COLO. .NIAL MAGAZINE. • With this periodicid is now incorporated, the "Meerut Universal Magazine"—a publication in deservedly high re pute in British Indi.r. The joint productions is henceforth to be conducted by the Editor, of the merged periodical, who offers, as his qualification to treat of Indian affairs, a fifteen years' residence in that country, aria a five years' Editorial connection with the Indian Press.. His first Number is certainly one of great promise. The articles are, for the most part, light and buoyant, to a degree .hitherto unparalleled in Anglo-Indian Magaiine literature. The" Lecture on Drinking," "My Furlough," and" Some thing New," " Stanzas about the Mocn," are full of spirit. To the curious in Hindoo Mythology, Mr. George Strat ton's account of the Tripetty Pagoda, and the celebrated idol therein worshipped, will be especially welcome. The sketch of the Shaik Dulloo, a noted Indian free-booter, will likewise afford much amusement to the lovers of the marvellous. As very little is really known of ' India in this country, the Editor will render an important service to the British public, by devoting much of his attention to the Portraiture of social life in the East ; carefully noting those a laws,, religious i o t f n p n r a c t s i s v i e o n e s h , a a r a n c d t e t r r , a o %i, a ry re produced.,p rjud _ ; c by e and reminiscences. THE ASIATIC JOU.R.NAL. Allen and Co. The " Penal Code of India," a subject of deep interest to nearly one hundred million bumanbeings, is the subject of a good article in the of domestice:i present t nNd N e wpursmozombceei Zealand society, teay o s: f dt ao t nhptdo:' throw Asiatichrwya:m here u ecar I: Journal." The illustrations upon the text arc remarkable for their broity and distinctness. The " Analyses of pew w ste li r g n ii tu - p Works" o be called familiatrhiegresclti°agntieotius impressions and prejudices in the East. We c annot pretend to they y y w op ii i i n b io e n t r h e o s u p g e ti c t tin b cr ye t fe t s( t io j ;f udges of the value of such w butte swpee2ihmacvieisnoofd'o' of far higher ares l q i u te it r e ary ecitl _t. a rt st , to the of young gentlemen tension than the bards of New Zealand. pre. al 111. de Sacy, the French Orientalist, is very interesting. The memoir of We have read with pleasure. ‘ Native Society in Indi L" is likewise an article embodying much novel information. As a whole this Number is a decided improvement upon the last. [The rest of the Magazines will be givp to-morrow,l T_LIE SUN, LONDON, MONDAY, OCTOMM 1, 1838.